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Bend, Bow, Break

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Jesse could sleep anywhere. It was something that had kept him sane back in his Blackwatch days. Napping on a stake out using his revolver for a pillow. Sleeping like a baby in a safe house as gunfire rained down outside. Nothing could stop Jesse McCree getting his eight hours. He just needed to pull his hat down over his eyes and he was off. It was a good skill to have and one that had never let him down before. That was until he moved into this new base.

Jesse was now lucky if he got some shut eye before three am and he wasn’t someone who could function on a bad night’s rest. He was next to useless unless he’d sucked down half a dozen mugs of coffee. It didn’t help that there was little to fill his days beyond training to tire him out, which made him even more restless. He'd only been at the base for little over two weeks and he was already itching to leave on a new mission. Unfortunately that didn't seem to be happening any time soon.

"Our next move needs to be a carefully considered strategic attack," Winston had said when Jesse had all but begged him to reveal when they’d be shipping out. "We're at a crucial juncture and it cannot be rushed.”

In other words, he had no idea.

It wasn't even like anything was wrong with the base. It was smaller than the Swiss one had been and less showy, holed up just North of nowhere to avoid suspicion, but the insides were nearly exactly the same. And maybe that was the problem. It was so similar that the differences had him spooked. For starters his new room was like a flipped version of his old quarters. He kept bashing his leg on the side table that was supposed to be on the other side of the room and rolling over into the wall that was supposed to be on his right when he futilely tried to sleep. When he’d walk the halls of the base, he’d turn a corner, expecting to see Reyes there ready to bust his balls for something, and instead see a new recruit who he didn’t recognise.

It all set him on edge in a way that nothing had before. Combat he understood; it was straightforward, simple. You shoot the bad guys, they shot at you. This… uneasiness was something he couldn’t explain. And Jesse never fared too well with things he couldn’t explain.

That was how Jesse found himself sitting in the kitchen of the base at two in the morning. He'd grown sick of the sight of those familiar but wrong four walls and given up trying to sleep entirely. He had a cigarillo lit, rolling it slowly back and forth between his finger and thumb as he watched the smoke from it curl up and filter away up through the vents above him.

The microwave next to him pinged making him jump. Warm milk; apparently it was good for sleeping. He gingerly fished it out the machine and poured a good splash of bourbon from his hip flask in the boiling mug. He’d’ve preferred the bourbon straight but the addition of the milk made the drinking alone in the middle of the night seem less pathetic.

He took a long swig from it, grimaced, then shrugged and took an other. Definitely not the worse thing he’d drunk.

The sound of the glass door out to the patio sliding open startled him and he looked up to see Genji's brother, Hanzo, slipping inside with, for some reason, a broom in his hand. He stopped when he saw Jesse sitting up at the counter.

"What are you doing sitting in the dark?” Hanzo asked sharply. It sounded like an accusation, his words loaded with suspicion and mistrust, as if Jesse was the newcomer, sneaking about in the middle of the night wielding cleaning equipment.

"Just getting a night cap." When Hanzo didn’t seem to register that as a sufficient answer, Jesse indicated to his drink. “Something to drink to help me sleep." He took an overly large mouthful to show him, flashing a thumbs up.

Hanzo's expression turned to one of disgust and Jesse realised he had milk dripping from his moustache. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth with a sheepish laugh.

"Look at that, got a moustache in my moustache." Jesse hadn’t thought Hanzo's expression could get any more contemptuous but he managed to surprise him.

Hanzo had been at this base nearly as long as Jesse and yet this was the first time Jesse had actually seen him since his arrival. He had the feeling he might not be giving off the best first impression here.

"I reckon I should introduce myself, I’m —“

"I know who you are,” Hanzo cut in. He apparently didn't feel it necessary to elaborate any further as no further comment followed.

“Right.” Jesse lowered the hand he'd offered out that Hanzo was pointedly ignoring. Without his intimidating bow and quiver, Hanzo looked smaller than Jesse remembered him being when he’d first seen him arriving with Genji. Jesse had no doubt he could still kick the ass of anyone here — he’d heard the stories of the legendary elder Shimada brother — but seeing him in a domestic setting made him look less the fearsome dragon, and more human.

"So, ah, what's with the broom?"

"I have been cleaning with it. Surely you are not so ignorant that you don't know the function of a simple broom."

"What, no, ‘course I do," Jesse said, a little taken aback. "Just wonderin’ what you were doing cleanin’ at this hour."

"This place is filthy. I do not think any attempt has been made to clean it since its reoccupation."

"It ain't that bad. Ain’t seen no rats yet, now that’s when you gotta start worryin’.” Jesse realised that was the wrong thing to say when Hanzo narrowed his eyes at him.

"Anyhow," Jesse said hastily before he could get belittled any further. "I ain't seen you around much, hope you’re not feeling unwelcome here."

"I do not wish to impose on anybody. I am only here for my brother.” Hanzo stood so rigidly that he made the broom look crooked. Jesse felt tense just looking at him. “I feel more comfortable walking freely at night where I cannot disturb anybody.”

“There ain’t no need for that," Jesse said with a wave of his hand, spraying ash from his cigarillo across the table. "Most folks here feel like they know you already. Your brother talks about you all the time. For years I’ve been hearing Hanzo this and Hanzo that.”

"Do not presume to know me or my relationship with my brother," Hanzo snapped, his grip on the broom handle tightening. OK, so Jesse had been wrong. Even without the bow and arrows, Hanzo was still terrifying. Even that broom was starting to look more and more like a weapon in Hanzo’s highly capable hands. Still, the southern gentleman in Jesse wouldn't let him give up that easy.

"Well, just don't be feeling like you gotta be goin’ around all sneaky like in the small hours. We’re all feeling a little out of place here. I sure as hell am, and I was part of the original crew. What better place to feel like you don’t belong than ‘round a bunch of others feelin’ the same?”

“You do not know my history with my brother, what I have done,” Hanzo said quietly. “If you did you would not be speaking this way.”

“I know,” Jesse said, nodding slowly, giving his smoke a long suck. “But if Genji wants you here, you’re welcome as any.” There was a moment when it looked as if Hanzo was about to say something in reply but then thought better of it and snapped his mouth shut.

“Well then,” Jesse started, standing and gathered up his mug and cigar, "Best be getting back to bed. I’ll be wishing you a good night, pardner."

Hanzo remained silent and just watched as Jesse shuffled rather awkwardly in his socks across the room. Jesse was almost high and dry and out the door when Hanzo spoke again.

"I do not like all the waiting here.” Jesse turned to see Hanzo addressing the floor as he spoke, like he was revealing an embarrassing confession. “There is no structure to the days."

“Yeah, all this nothing's getting to me too,” Jesse said. “Driving me a little stir crazy to be honest."

"I am used to order, structure, discipline. There is none of it here. I find that I am wasting time and I dislike that very much.”

"Just give it a while,” Jesse said, giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “We're just getting back on our feet. Once some missions start comin’ through, things’ll get straightened out. Come join us in some training in the meantime, though I’m sure someone like you don’t need it.”

"I have seen you fight,” Hanzo said suddenly. “You are a remarkable shot." The compliment came so out of nowhere Jesse had to repeat it over in his head to process it.

“Well, thanking you kindly," he said with a grin, tipping his nonexistent hat. Maybe Hanzo wasn’t so bad after all.

"In all other fields of combat you are abysmal.”

Jesse blinked at him for a moment then gave a bark of shocked laughter and shook his head.

“Damn, pardner, you really don’t sugar coat nothing, do ye?”

“It would be more rude to allow you to continue in this manner. I am surprised you've lasted this long in the field.”

“I do alright by myself. I ain’t dead yet,” Jesse said, sticking out his chest a little defensively.

“But you have taken damage,” Hanzo said, indicating Jesse’s metallic arm. “You rely entirely on your weapon. What would happen if you were to run out of bullets?”

“Hey, this ain’t my first rodeo. Never had no complaints before.” That wasn’t strictly true, but the people doing the complaining weren’t around any more and that was good enough for Jesse.

“You would die,” Hanzo continued, answering his own question as if Jesse hadn’t spoken. “I do not doubt you were once a very skilled fighter, I can see it in the way you move, but you have grown lazy.”

“If this is your idea of making friends, I gotta tell ye, your approach needs some work.” Jesse had known this guy for all of ten minutes and here he was throwing insults at him. He’d like to know how Hanzo had such a good idea of how he fought but he had the impression he’d probably rather not.

“I do not say this to merely insult you,” Hanzo said, voice smooth as good whiskey. “I am telling you this as I am offering to train you.”

“To what?” Jesse all out laughed. This was just getting more and more bizarre. “I don’t need any tips on shootin’ arrows, but thanks.”

“As I said before, your aim requires no assistance,” Hanzo took a step closer to Jesse. “It is everything else that needs work.”

“I had a teacher once before,” Jesse said with a humourless smile. “Didn’t end so well. Don’t plan on makin’ that mistake again.”

“I have been trained in multiple ways of combat by the most skilled masters Japan had to offer. I have spent my entire life honing my skills entirely for this purpose.” Hanzo moved even closer toward Jesse and Jesse had to resist the urge to take a step back.

“You would be a fool to turn down my offer.”

Even though Jesse had a few inches on him, he still felt dwarfed under Hanzo’s penetrative gaze. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Jesse was dressed in sweats and a faded old t-shirt he’d won for lasting five minutes on a bucking bronco at a place called ‘Sandy Dick’s Roadhouse’, while Hanzo was still in full yukata. He wished he was wearing his hat at least.

“I guess,” Jesse stammered out.

“Then we are in agreement. I shall see you in the morning for our first session,” Hanzo said, briskly stepping around Jesse and towards the door. “Six o’clock.”

“Wait, what?” Jesse said, feeling a little dazed. “Listen, I never really agreed to this. And did you say six o’clock? Why, that’s in three hours!”

His complaints were addressed to an empty room, however, as Hanzo had disappeared so quickly Jesse couldn’t entirely be sure he hadn’t just dreamt their whole conversation in some kind of a sleep deprived hallucination.

“What in the hell just happened?” he asked aloud but the deserted room had about as much of a clue as he did.


Jesse was roused into consciousness by the realisation he wasn’t alone in his room. His mind immediately became alert and from his position sprawled out face down in bed, he shifted ever so slightly to slip a hand under his pillow to curl it around peacekeeper. He gave a beat then whirled around, revolver raised and pointing blindly into the dark room.

A second later he found himself flat back on his bed, an arm pressed against his throat, holding him down and another forcing his gun hand against the wall.

“Whassa fuck?” Jesse rasped against the forearm crushing his windpipe.

“You were not answering your door,” a far too calm voice said above him.

“Hanzo?” Jesse squinted into the darkness and realised that yes, the man he’d met merely hours ago was the one currently straddling him. “What the hell are you doing, I could have shot you!” Hanzo gave a derisive sound that Jesse thought might have been his version of a laugh then climbed off him.

“I assure you, you could not.” Jesse sat up gingerly, rubbing his throat, then flicked on his bed side lamp. There was Hanzo, standing stiffly by his bed, watching him carefully. He didn’t appear to be sorry or even embarrassed by his actions. In fact, he was just as haughtily stone faced as he had been the last time Jesse had seen him.

“What in tarnation are you doing breaking into my room? You know in these parts most people just knock.”

“I did try knocking. Several times. As I said, you were not answering my attempts to rouse you, and as I did not wish to wake the rest of the building, I simply let myself in.”

“I had my door locked, how’d you get in?” Jesse said rubbing at his eyes wearily. Now that the shock had worn off and his heart had stopped trying to hammer out of his chest, he realised just how tired he was. “You some kinda ninja?

“Not all Japanese people are ninja,” Hanzo said curtly.

“Not all Japanese people break into other people’s rooms at,” Jesse fumbled for his clock on his side table, “six o’clock in the morning!”

“We had an appointment.” Jesse buried his head in his hands and wondered what he had done to deserve this. His mind began unhelpfully supplying many reasons why karma might want to come back and bite him in the ass, so he quickly cut off that line of thinking.

“Listen sunshine, a work out is just about the last thing I wanna do right now. Just give me a few more hours of sleep then I’ll be fighting fit.”

“We had an appointment,” Hanzo repeated bluntly. “I am not a man who goes back on his word. I will see you in the gym in ten minutes.” At that, he turned to leave with a flick of the ribbon in his hair.

Jesse flopped back onto the bed and pulled a pillow over his head. He was determined he would not leave this spot. Hanzo would just have to come back in and drag him out of it. No sir, Jesse McCree would not be moved.

After three minutes, he let out a frustrated sigh and staggered up to the bathroom, knocking his shin against the bedside table as he went with a grunt. He wasn’t getting back to sleep any time soon anyway.


“An eleven minute mile,” Hanzo said, peering over the side of the treadmill to check the read out. He clucked his tongue but didn’t add anything else. Even so it was the most scathing put down Jesse had ever heard.

“You know the best thing about usin’ a gun?” Jesse said through laboured breathing, stepping down off the equipment on shaky legs. “It’s long range. No running required.”

“And how exactly to do you intend on getting in range to use your gun? Does a horse come with the hat?” Hanzo said cooly, handing Jesse a bottle of water which he immediately began glugging.

Jesse glared at him as he drank in a way in which he hoped conveyed the scathing reply he wasn’t able to say at the moment. Hanzo simply blinked at him, clearly unimpressed.

“I don’t see you doing any running,” Jesse said panting, after he’d downed nearly half the bottle.

“My exercises comes later, for now we are focusing on you.”

They’d been in the gym little over fifteen minutes and Jesse was already ready to hit the showers and call it a day. The place was of course, empty as no one else was stupid enough to wake up at this hour and Jesse had the terrifying feeling that Hanzo was going to take advantage of all the free equipment get him to use every single machine there.

“Come, let us stretch.” Hanzo indicated to some mats he’d set up in the corner of the room. “I have been considering the best course of action in devising a routine for you. Clearly a lot of work needs to be done.”

“I’m trying real hard not to get offended here, coach,” Jesse said, rotating his arms slowly before beginning his warm up.

“As you seem so very… westernised I do not wish to introduce to you too many practises that would seem jarring or what would take too long for you to grasp. This also needs to be a routine that you could manage even when I am not here. There is much equipment at this base but you will not always have access to it.”

“Seems like you put a lot of thought into this,” Jesse said as he started up on his leg stretches.

“And I expect you to show as much dedication as well,” Hanzo said as stoic as ever. “No, not like that.” He corrected Jesse’s stance from where he was stretching out his hamstring with a curt slap to his thigh.

“Hey,” Jesse whined petulantly, but allowed himself to be moved to the correct position.

“So what are you getting out of this,” Jesse couldn’t help but ask after stretching for a while. “This seems like a very one sided deal.” Jesse was currently going under the theories of Hanzo having some kind of sadistic tendency or that he was a talon agent on a very subtle, slow acting assassination.

“I would have expected a little more gratitude and a little less questioning,” Hanzo snapped. “Now if you finished, time to move on.” Jesse grimaced and braced himself for the worst.


It turned out that ‘the worst’ was feeling like he was about to die.

“No more. I can’t,” Jesse gasped from where he was dangling limply on a pull up beam. “My good arm is gunna rip off.”

“No it is not,” Hanzo’s annoyingly calm voice spoke from behind him. Jesse would have disagreed but he’d lost his puff and was desperately trying to suck air back into his lungs before he blacked out.

“You have only done one set of ten. You still have ten more to go.” Jesse let out a wail. He didn’t think he could last ten more seconds let alone ten more reps.

“You’re gunna kill me,” he rasped, his voice sounding so thin he barely recognised it. “I knew it, you want me dead ’n’ you’re killin’ me in the cruelest way possible.”

“Focus,” Hanzo snapped, voice harsh and Jesse had to fight back a shudder. The same creeping uneasiness that wouldn’t let him sleep had returned because that was the wrong voice barking orders at him and this was the wrong room and he shouldn’t be here. Overwatch was done and his trainer was dead, only he wasn’t and Overwatch was reformed and here Jesse was, back in a training room with an instructor breathing down his neck. His stomach turned and he wanted to bolt out of this room, out of the entire base and not look back.

“Are you listening?” Hanzo said, jolting Jesse from of his thoughts. He stalked around so he was standing in front of Jesse, looking extremely unimpressed. “I knew you were in bad shape but this is truly pathetic.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Jesse said with almost no bite. Out of pure spite, he hauled himself up with a considerable amount of grunting in another feeble pull up that didn’t even clear the bar. He let out a strangled cry then flopped back down. Hanzo was watching him like he was witnessing a particularly gruesome car crash.

“See, you call that pathetic?” Jesse slurred tiredly, flashing a weak grin.

“You are not regulating you breathing, you must breathe with it. You are wasting energy this way.” Jesse so dearly wanted to tell him how he wasted all his energy on the thousands of exercises Hanzo had gotten him to do before this but he’d blown all his air again. He hated that Hanzo was right about that.

“Do it again, but this time,” Jesse jumped when he felt Hanzo’s hands on the small of his back and stomach. They were large and dry against the slick sweaty mess of Jesse’s shirt. “Use your stomach. Breath deeply on the lift and release at the top.”

“You’re gunna have to help me,” Jesse said, uncaring of how weak that sounded.

“I am here, use your breath to help you. You are stronger than you know.”

Jesse did as instructed and sucked in a deep breath while he heaved himself up over the bar so his chin cleared it, his stomach muscles straining. Hanzo’s hands around him gave him grounding and a solid base to focus on.

“Good, again.” Again and again, for eight more reps Jesse breathed in deep, pulled himself up to the bar, exhaled, then steadily set himself down again. When he reached number ten he was shaking so bad he couldn't even see any more. It was just a white haze, the awareness of the two hands around him and Hanzo steady voice counting down the pull ups.

“And you are done. You may get down.” Jesse landed unsteadily, the floor feeling too solid after so much time in the air. He noticed there were dents in the bar from where his metallic hand had been gripping it for so long.

“Your breathing is a problem. Those cigars you smoke are killing you.”

“Yup,” Jesse grunted, as he slumped down on one of the benches. “Most things in life that are fun will do that to you.”

“We shall have to focus more work on that in your next session.” Jesse didn’t like the implications of what that meant but that was a problem for tomorrow’s Jesse. Right now all he wanted to worry about was how soon he could get to a shower.

“As for everything else,” Hanzo continued, “you have no control, no finesse. You go through the motions of the exercises but you have no skill in them.”

“And I thought a work out was supposed to make you feel good,” Jesse muttered. He dumped the last of his water over his head then shook out like a dog and smirked when he heard Hanzo’s disgusted grunt when some landed on him.

“Do not rest yet. You still need to do your cool down mile then stretch out.” Jesse idly wondered how far he’d get if he used his mile to get away from Hanzo and how painful he’d make Jesse’s punishment if he tried.


After a long shower in which Jesse nearly fell asleep standing up twice, and a trip to the kitchen where he undid all the good work he’d just done with an obscenely large, unhealthy breakfast, Jesse went in search of Genji. He figured if anyone could help him with this Hanzo situation it would be the person who’d brought him here. And if he couldn’t help, well, Jesse could just vent his frustrations at someone a lot less scary than Hanzo.

He found Genji sitting peacefully on the grass in a small alcove of the gardens. He was with his mentor, Zenyatta, who’d arrived at the base three days before. They both looked to be in deep meditation.

Jesse shuffled awkwardly at entrance of the alcove, unsure whether he should disturb them or not.

“Good morning, Jesse,” Genji spoke in his light, robotic voice, taking the choice away from him. “We’re you in need of something?”

“Oh geeze, hey Genji, Zenyatta.” He tipped his hat to both of them, feeling a little foolish. “Sorry ‘bout barging in like this.”

“My master cannot hear you, he is too deep in meditation.” Genji stood gracefully in one fluid movement. “Luckily for you, I have not mastered that skill yet.”

“Could I have a minute?” Jesse asked, jerking his head back in a signal he wished to walk and talk.

“You, my friend, may have as long as you need.”

They walked a while, engaging in light small talk; Genji gliding along, hands clasped behind his back and Jesse slouching, thumbs tucked in his belt. Jesse tried to figure out the best way the broach the subject of Hanzo and decided it was probably best to just get straight to the point.

“So I met your brother last night,” he started.

“You have spoken to Hanzo?” Genji said pausing in his tracks.

“Yeah, haven't you?” Jesse asked, a little startled by his reaction. Genji sighed and it was a long, despondent sound.

“I have sought out my brother many times during our stay here but he either evades me or cuts our conversations so brief I have hardly any time to speak to him at all.”

“But he came with you, surely you spoke then?”

“I recruited him, yes, but that meeting was also where I first revealed to him of my survival. He did not take it well, that much is clear. Hanzo wishes to be here because I am here, but he is not yet ready to face me. He is a man in deep conflict with himself.”

“But you’ve forgiven him, you’re ok with him being here?”

“Yes, but trust me, finding peace with what happened did not take mere weeks for me to achieve. It was a long process and I must give Hanzo space to do the same.” Jesse nodded. He remembered how Genji had been when he had first met him after Angela’s reconstruction, so lost and angry, not entirely dissimilar to the elder Shimada now.

“But please,” Genji continued. “You have spoken to Hanzo, what did he say?”

“Well, it was a little curious really. He’s decided he’s my new trainer.”

“Ah,” Genji said, all too understandingly, and indicated for them to continue their walk.

“Yeah, ‘ah’ indeed. I chanced a meetin’ with him in the early hours of this morning, said about three words to him, all friendly like, then he’s waking me up crack o’dawn and dragging my ass to the gym! I mean,” Jesse flopped his arms in a bewildered shrug. “What in the world is that all about?”

“My brother has always had some… issues when it comes to control,” Genji said. He fiddled with his hands, a nervous tic mediation and new hands hadn’t seemed to have eradicated yet. “Or rather, when he feels his control slipping. You would have noticed he’s not the most relaxed of people.”

“He ain’t just got a stick up his ass, he’s got the whole damn tree,” Jesse agreed and Genji laughed.

“I’d watch what you say around him. Hanzo was never one for taking a joke at his own expense.” Genji took a seat on one of the stone benches that littered the garden and Jesse joined him.

“I remember he did something similar to this when we were children. He could not master a technique with his blade. It was the first time such a thing had happened to him — he was always the star pupil — and needless to say he was very frustrated. His teacher told him he could not proceed with any more training until he had mastered it to his satisfaction. The pressure on my brother had always been immense; he was the heir, the son the clan had their eyes on, and my brother felt it very keenly. So Hanzo released his frustrations by pulling aside a few of my father’s security team and began to instruct them on how to guard the compound better.”

Jesse tried to picture it; teen Hanzo barking orders at men twice his size and probably improving the running of his house exponentially. It wasn’t difficult to imagine.

“How you get him to stop back then?”

“After my father heard of what he was doing, he removed the men from his employ, by what means I do not know, nor care to think about. Eventually Hanzo mastered the skill and that was that.”

“So your brother’s using me as a human stress ball,” Jesse sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on just behind his eyes. “After this morning I’m really starting to feel like it.”

“He didn’t engage you in hand to hand combat training, did he?” Genji asked.

“No. Why, will he?” Jesse said suspicious of Genji’s worried tone.

“No.” Genji replied a little too quickly for Jesse’s liking. “But if he does, I would turn down the offer.”

“If I could say no to the guy, I wouldn’t be in this mess. He’s very persuasive, think if I refused him he’d make a pin cushion outta me with his arrows.”

“I am truly sorry you have been put in this position, my friend. However, I cannot deny that I am pleased Hanzo is reaching out to someone rather than isolating himself. He was never good at making friends.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Jesse snorted, then immediately felt bad for it. “Nah, he ain’t all that bad. Comes on a little strong, could do with cracking his face a little more, but he’s probably gonna prevent me heading towards that early heart attack. Or bring it on, I ain’t sure yet.” Jesse plucked his cigarillo from his breast pocket and lit it, sucking on it contentedly for a moment. “You know I caught him cleaning when I first met him. Sweeping the patio at two in the mornin’.”

Genji laughed, light and easy and the fondness in it made Jesse’s heart ache. “Ah yes, now that is something Hanzo has done since childhood. He cleans when he is uncomfortable.”

Jesse gave a low whistle and shook his head. “Genji, your brother’s just a big ball of issues with a pony tail.”

“Yes,” Genji said with a sigh. “And he was like that before he killed me. I imagine he must be considerably worse now.”

Jesse gave a deep laugh and cuffed Genji on the shoulder. He was one of the few people who enjoyed Genji’s rather dark humour when it came to his near death experience.

“I’ll let you know. Now what I’m needing is a long nap before Hanzo has me on a 10 mile pre-dinner run or some such,” Jesse said, patting Genji on the knee before standing and stretching.

“I will try and speak to him, but I can’t imagine I could sway him in this. But to be trained by my brother is an honour in itself, you could benefit much from his guidance.”

“You think I need shapin’ up?” Jesse said in mock offence. “Look at this body and tell me it needs improving.” He sucked in his gut and flexed his arms, making Genji laugh.

“Truly my brother has his work cut out for him.”

“You know me, Genji,” Jesse dipped his hat low over his eyes with a grin, “I’ve always been a handful.”